This is my psychiatrist's couch. Take from it what you will.
But do leave a note.
I still am a late middle aged former government worker marking time until the cliff.
Short Fiction, Doggerel and Insensitive Opinion are spoken here.
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Sunday, July 5, 2015

Deployment (Blogophilia 20.8)

"The enemy of society is the middle class."
Said the father.
"But the enemy of life is middle age."
Said the son.
As the BMW cruises through toward the tarmac.

They had been at odds for a long time. Whatever the father demanded, he did the opposite out of spite. As they approached the airbase, Pvt. Charles Wilborn Jr. was taking his last shots at his old man. The brooding C-5 was to lift him from falsity. Away from the vegetarian draft dodger that had sired him. Away from the manicured lawn and preppy, phony school mates. This was his rebellion. And if he didn't come back, so be it. It was better than sitting around being jealous of the neighbors and wondering if the software release was successful. Jealousy is a disease of the weak. He was going to prove he was strong.

"I can still stop this."

"Fuck you and your money. I'm not your fortunate son."

Exiting the car, he salutes the Lieutenant and lugged the duffel to his place in line.